


Res Ipsa Loquitor

by sksdwrld



Series: Res Ipsa [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Clubbing, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Mordred's last day at the Law Offices of Pendragon, Pendragon and Pendragon. There's celebration and then there's <i>celebration</i>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Res Ipsa Loquitor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts), [catservant66](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=catservant66).



> All the love goes to V and Bekah who are my unwavering supporters and betas for all the things.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Nick for the invaluable advice on cocks and prostates.

Mordred shifted the pile of disposable cutlery and plates into one arm so that he could open the cabinet with the other. For all of two seconds, he considered cramming everything inside and shutting the door as fast as he could. The next bloke to open the cupboard was likely to get a faceful of paper products and even though Mordred wouldn’t be around to see it, the idea that some other intern was going to have to clean up after him didn’t sit right. He sighed and began to restock the cabinet properly.

 

It was Mordred’s last day as an intern at Triple P, or _The Law Offices of Pendragon, Pendragon and Pendragon_ , and there had been a nice little send off party in his honor. The secretaries did love Mordred, even if most of the other professionals thought he was a knob, which was clearly the case, since it was after two on his last day and he was cleaning up the detritus from his own party.

 

“Hey, Camlann!”

 

Mordred stiffened at the sound of Cenred’s smarmy voice but forced himself to turn with a smile. “Oh, hey, Cenred. Come for some cake?”

 

Cenred’s eyes flicked toward the table and his face took on a look of disdain. “I don’t eat refined sugar.”

 

“Er...right.” Mordred nudged the cake farther away from them both. “What can I do for you?”

 

Cenred held up two manila folders. “Take these over to Arthur for me? It’s the Mycroft case.”

 

“Um...” Mordred grabbed one of the paper towels and wiped his hands off. Arthur’s office was within spitting distance of the break room. There was no reason that Cenred couldn’t take it himself, other than the fact that he was a lazy sod. But, Mordred put on a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sure, of course. Happy to.”

 

Mordred picked the files off of the table where Cenred had tossed them and strolled down the hallway. Arthur’s door was open and Mordred raised his hand to casually knock as he went in, but found himself distracted by the on-goings in the office instead.

 

“You are a royal prat!” Merlin Emrys, one of the firm’s prosecuting attorneys accused as he leaned over Arthur’s desk, bracing his long, slender arms on the edges.

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he too leaned over, taking a firm hold of Merlin’s tie and tugging him nearer. “You love it.” His mouth descended, claiming Merlin’s in an authoritative snog that left Merlin grasping at Arthur’s bicep and Mordred reeling. Mordred knew that he should he should return another time, or for Christ’s sake, look away at the very least, but he couldn’t. The two of them were perfect together: equal parts snark and passion, with just enough cuteness sprinkled in to make them adorable instead of disgusting. 

 

Mordred thought that he may very well be in love with them. Well, the idea of them. What they represented. Because they were a dedicated couple and Mordred certainly didn’t have a crush on Merlin, his mentor, or Arthur, his boss. He didn’t think of them when he was watching romance films; didn’t wonder if Merlin sat on the couch with his feet in Arthur’s lap or if they sang off-key to bad songs while showering together. And, Mordred definitely, in no way fantasized about Merlin and Arthur having sex when he tossed off. Because that would be wrong. And strange.

 

And yes, there it was. The work-inappropriate hard-on, popping up at inopportune moments to mock his sense of professionalism and remind him of what a sad and depraved individual he truly was. He turned, angling the files toward the inbox just outside of Arthur’s door when the dual clearing of throats both caught his attention and made him flush.

 

“Oh, hey, Mordred!” Merlin bounded over like a golden retriever puppy, all long limbs, big feet, and stupidly happy grin.

 

“Er, I was just gonna...” Mordred gestured vaguely toward the inbox but Merlin was already pushing the door open wider and gesturing Mordred inside. Mordred sheepishly held the folders out toward Arthur, who, despite Mordred’s non-crush, was still intimidating as hell. “Well, here. These are the Mycroft files...from Cenred?”

 

"Thanks." Arthur accepted the folders and tapped them against his thigh. "Last day right? I'm sorry I missed your party. I had that conference call..."

 

Mordred waved his hand. "Not at all. You're a busy man."

 

"Yes, but you've been really great, Mordred. And you're going to make a brilliant lawyer. We'd take you on here, if my father didn't have a rule about seasoned experience. But come back in five years and I'll make room for you if I have to. Seriously." 

 

The compliment thrilled Mordred beyond belief and he ducked his head as he smiled. "Thank you, Arthur. It would be my pleasure to work with such talent again."

 

"Well that's settled, then. Look, Mordred...Merlin and I have dinner plans tonight but we'd be happy if you joined us."

 

"Oh, I couldn't possibly..." Mordred said with a shake of his head. He wasn't going to interrupt their date, for Christ's sake.

 

"Don't be stupid," Merlin said, slinging his arm around Mordred's shoulders. "Arthur wants to give you a proper send off."

 

Mordred looked from Merlin's eager grin to Arthur's serious smile and felt delirium begin to creep over him. He had to get out of here before he made a complete fool of himself. "Well, in that case, I accept. But, I ought to get back to work before you change your mind about my ethic..."

 

Arthur snorted and Merlin rolled his eyes, but they let him go back to cleaning up the break room, only to call him back to Merlin's office an hour later. Merlin had misplaced an entire stack of reports that he needed to take home with him over the weekend. After looking for them for thirty minutes, Mordred decided he had better just make new copies of them so he went to the filing room to pull all the necessary paperwork...again. 

 

Mordred had just put the last bundle through the copier when Merlin dashed in, pink-cheeked and slightly winded. He must have sprinted down the hallway. "Wait! I found them mixed in with Arthur's files in his briefcase! The prat must have picked them up at lunchtime!"

 

Mordred looked helplessly at the stack of freshly printed reports as well as the files that now needed re-filing. "Alright. Well, I'll be awhile. Best head off without me."

 

"You're kidding me, right? C'mere..." Merlin raised his left eyebrow and fixed Mordred with a look before grabbing the files off of the table next to the copying machine. He tucked them under one arm and beckoned to Mordred with the other, sliding it around Mordred's shoulder when he was close enough. "Let me tell you the unspoken rule here at P3...no one works past six on Friday nights."

 

Mordred checked his watch and then glanced down the hallway. "It's quarter past and everyone is still here except Uther and Morgana."

 

Merlin's mouth quirked up. "No one of importance anyway, and that means it's long past quitting time for me and Arthur. Besides, it's your last day. Someone else can take care of this on Monday. Come on, I'm buying you a drink."

 

Merlin, Arthur and Mordred caught a cab across town to a place Mordred had seen advertisements for in the foodie-magazine someone had left in the breakroom. One drink turned into three and by the time their entrees came, Mordred was more than refreshed.

 

Merlin tucked his fork into his vegetable medley but paused, looking up at Arthur with a gleam in his eye. "I've got a brilliant idea!"

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and leaned across the table toward Mordred, saying conspiratorially, "Whenever Merlin gets a few drinks in him, he yearns to go dancing."

 

"Let's go dancing!" Merlin said as if he'd only just thought of it himself and Mordred clamped his mouth shut to contain the fit of giggles that threatened to escape. But Arthur was chuckling and Merlin was shimmying in his chair much to the chagrin of the couple behind them, so Mordred laughed too, hiding behind his hand.

 

“Merlin thinks that ABBA wrote that bloody song about him,” Arthur said, lifting his knife and cutting into his steak, analyzing it before deeming it fit to put in his mouth.

 

“What song?” Mordred replied stupidly as he turned his plate, trying to decide what the best angle of attack was. Then he flushed. He was probably the worst gay on the planet for not having that at the tip of his tongue, but honestly, he was so distracted by Merlin and Arthur’s presence, by their casual and friendly demeanor, that he could hardly follow the plot when he wasn’t distracted by heavenly cuisine. “Oh, I mean, right. _That one_.”

 

Arthur ducked his head toward Merlin and grumbled, "Fuck me, he doesn't know what the hell I'm talking about. Kids these days...I'm officially too old for this shit, Merlin."

 

"Oh God, do you see what you've done? " Merlin lamented with an eye roll. "Quick, appeal to his vanity or we'll be drowning in crocodile tears all evening."

 

Mordred glanced at Arthur and bit his lip.

 

"Well, go on!" Arthur said seriously and rolled his hand for Mordred to continue.

 

"Arthur, come on. Isn't it obvious? You're the best-dressed person at Triple P, aside from Morgana, of course, but women clearly have more options in the clothing department, and we won't even start a conversation about shoes..." As Arthur arched an eyebrow, Mordred struggled to keep a straight face but continued to deliver line after line. "Your hair is near-perfect and your esthetic taste is just top notch...I don't know what else I could possibly say...you look great for your age!"

 

Arthur's lips thinned and Merlin froze with his lips on his glass, eyes wide. A nervous giggle bubbled out of Mordred and then Merlin was spitting into his napkin and crowing with glee. Arthur pretended to be wounded but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

 

"Come on!" Mordred nudged Arthur's foot under the table. "You're hot shit and you know it."

 

"No, no. Too little, too late, Camlann. And it's a good thing you're no longer working for us, or you'd be fired. You better hope that we don't blacklist your sorry arse from all the firms in London." Arthur deflected as he waved his hands in the air. The smile on his was evident though and it set them up for easy banter throughout the rest of the meal.

 

Soon, Mordred found out that they hadn't been kidding about clubbing after dinner and he was having such a good time that he readily accepted the invitation to go with them. Arthur paid the cover charge for each of them, offering to check their coats as well because Merlin was already working his hips and heading toward the dance floor.

 

It wasn't long before Arthur joined them, his moves much more subdued than Merlin's enthusiastic ones. One song blended into the next and Mordred couldn't be sure how long they'd been at it, but he was starting to work up a sweat.

 

"Sod this dancing lark!" Arthur hollered. "Let's get drinks!"

 

"Shots!" Merlin yelled back waggling an eyebrow at Mordred who only laughed and shrugged amicably. 

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and headed toward the bar while Merlin led Mordred in the hunt for a table. They found a booth that seemed suitable to Merlin and slid into it opposite one another.

 

"Are you having a good time?" Merlin asked as he leaned forward.

 

"Yeah, it's great," Mordred smiled. "I'm glad we could do this-you guys are a lot of fun!"

 

"You have no idea," Merlin replied with a grin that bordered on a leer. Mordred didn't know how to interpret that so he just smiled again. Merlin's eyes narrowed slightly and then he glanced toward the bar. "Must be busy. Arthur's been awhile..."

 

"Yeah, busy." Mordred echoed and squinted down at the promotional flyer on the table that listed the upcoming events for the month. Then, he felt a foot slide up his calf. Mordred jumped, jerking his legs back toward himself so quickly that his heels drummed against the seat of the booth. He apologised, "Sorry!"

 

"What for?" Merlin leaned forward and with a devious smile, repeated the motion, this time hooking his foot behind Mordred's knee and tugging.

 

Mordred's leg shifted forward and Merlin continued to stroke it with the toe of his shoe. He didn't know what to do other than to glance after Arthur and then back at Merlin. "What are you doing?"

 

"Nothing you haven't wanted for awhile now," Merlin said cryptically.

 

"How do you...I...but...but Arthur!" Mordred stammered.

 

"Oh, you can't see it can you? Arthur likes you," Merlin purred. "We both like you, Mordred. And I'm certain you like us too. I've caught you looking, you see. Staring, really. I've seen what it's done to you..."

 

Merlin's foot moved into Mordred's lap, pressing firmly against his cock and balls. Mordred opened his mouth but no sound came out.

 

"Are you going to deny it? You haven't forgotten that I'm in prosecution, have you? I can drag the truth from you if I have to, Mordred."

 

Mordred didn't doubt that Merlin could easily get him to confess, but he was confused about why it was important or what Merlin was looking to accomplish. Blackmail of sorts? He swallowed and Merlin's foot nudged his genitals again. "Yeah. Yeah, I like you both. You're like, the perfect couple, but I mean, it doesn't mean anything. I would never..."

 

"Never?" Merlin blinked several times in rapid succession, then grinned. "Wait here," he instructed as he slid out of the booth. He made his way to the bar where he caught Arthur's elbow and then kissed him. It was one of those sloppy, open mouthed kisses that was all teeth and tongue and it sent all of Mordred's blood rushing south. He couldn't help but stare at them, even as Merlin palmed Arthur's arse cheek. It was a deliberate show for him, and when Merlin was finished, he put his lips to Arthur's ear.

 

It wasn't until Arthur glanced back at him though that the full force of embarrassment hit Mordred. Heat flooded his cheeks and he looked away. But when Arthur returned with the drinks, he slid into the booth alongside Mordred. He pushed a shot in front of him and then moved his arm around Mordred, crowding him into the corner of the booth. Arthur's breath was hot in Mordred's ear but it made him shiver nonetheless. "Actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea."

 

_The act is not culpable unless the mind is guilty._

 

Mordred's pulse raced through his veins and he wracked his brain for a witty response but all he could think of was _mens rea_ and _actus reus_ and he still didn't know what was happening. Arthur straightened so quickly that Mordred was almost sure he'd imagined the whole encounter. But then, Arthur's hand dropped into Mordred's lap, squeezing his thigh and sending a bolt of want through him. Mordred bit his lip, glancing down at the table, then at the wall and finally at Merlin who was watching with a strange, intense sort of look on his face.

 

"Bottoms up," Arthur said, lifting his shot glass. Mordred tried not to choke as he tossed his own back, struggling not with the booze but with the words themselves, which seemed to drip with implication. Arthur's fingers stroked up Mordred's thigh, grazing over his crotch before moving to his forearm. He tugged Mordred from the booth. "C'mon. Let's hit the floor before Merlin implodes from nervous energy."

 

Mordred wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when Merlin and Arthur began dancing with each other. He decided that he'd maybe had too much to drink and his subconscious desires were creeping in, colouring the situation and clouding his judgment. He tried to concentrate on keeping up with the beat rather than the allegory of Merlin and Arthur's movements.

 

He didn't know how many songs he danced through, only that he kept trying to catch the eyes of some of the other blokes on the dance floor but without any luck. Somehow Mordred knew the instant that someone did move in behind him, curling an arm around his chest and that that someone was Merlin.

 

"Arthur went to the bog!" Merlin yelled over the music.

 

Mordred nodded - what else was he going to do? - and kept moving his hips. Merlin ground his hard-on into Mordred's arse once, twice, three times before sliding around to the front of him, putting his arms loosely around Mordred's neck as though to keep him there, afraid Mordred would run away.

 

"D'you want another drink?" Merlin called.

 

Mordred raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"

 

"Subornation of perjury is a crime!" Merlin said with a secretive smile.

 

"This isn't a judicial proceeding!" Mordred countered.

 

Merlin undulated closer, holding Mordred's head as he said into his ear, "Not enough to impair your capability to consent; just to loosen you up a bit."

 

Mordred's eyes widened. "Consent to what?"

 

Merlin's grin widened but he didn't respond. Mordred felt another set of hands on his hips, tugging him insistently back. Then, Arthur was leaning over his shoulder, sucking at Merlin's mouth. "Have you said yes yet?" He said as he pulled away.

 

"Yes to _what?_ " Mordred cried.

 

There was no response, only the slow roll of two sets of hips against his own. Arthur breathed hotly against his nape and Merlin angled his head, bringing their mouths nearly together but ultimately passing him by in favor of Arthur. They snogged endlessly with Mordred pinned between their bodies, and rubbed themselves against him. Mordred felt all too quickly consumed and he whimpered pitifully.

 

When Merlin and Arthur broke apart again, they were breathless and Mordred could feel their eyes on him. He tugged at his collar. "Is it hot in here or is it me?"

 

"It's hot..." Merlin said trailing his finger down Mordred's chest to the tent in his slacks. "In here."

 

At the same time, Arthur mouthed Mordred's ear. "It's you."

 

"Oh fuck, I need some air!" Mordred slid away from them, darting across the dance floor, past the coat check and out the door. He made it as far as the corner and began patting down his pockets, belatedly realizing that his cigarettes were in his blazer which was back in the club.

 

Mordred heard the strike of a match and knew without turning that it was Arthur who had followed him out. Despite the fact that Arthur could not only afford but pull off one of those gold-plated, diamond encrusted lighters, he preferred matches. Mordred suspected it was because he liked the smell of the burning match heads. 

 

Arthur nudged Mordred's elbow and when Mordred reluctantly turned, handed him the cigarette. "You alright?"

 

"Yeah. I'm just..." Mordred gestured vaguely and drew on the cigarette.

 

"Confused? Overwhelmed?" Arthur supplied. Mordred nodded. "I'm sorry. Merlin can be a bit too much when he's excited. He's wanted you for months, you realise."

 

Mordred took another long pull from the cigarette before offering it to Arthur. "And you?" He tried not to fidget but he too was full of nervous energy. He rubbed his foot against the pavement.

 

Arthur took the cigarette and stared at it for a moment as he considered his words. "I meant what I said earlier, Mordred. You're brilliant and I'd love for you to work with us. I don't want to ruin that chance down the road because of something that may or may not happen tonight. But yeah, I want it too."

 

"But why?" Mordred reached for the cigarette.

 

"Just look at you..." Arthur gave it to him with a grin. Mordred flushed. "Are you interested Mordred, or are we barking up the wrong tree?"

 

"No. You're not...I mean, I am. I might be. It's just..."

 

"Just what?"

 

The look that Arthur fixed Mordred with was so intense that Mordred forgot to breathe. He whispered, "You're my boss..."

 

"Not anymore..."

 

"Jesus, if the two of you eye-fuck each other any harder..."

 

"Merlin!" Arthur reproved as Mordred looked away again. He finished the cigarette and flicked the filter into the street.

 

"He's not out here convincing you to back out, is he Mordred?" Merlin passed Mordred a concerned look along with his blazer.

 

"I'm trying my hand at subtlety, you twit," Arthur snapped.

 

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Subtlety? Appeal to his dick, the brain will follow. For God's sake..." He reached out, grabbing the lapels of the jacket that Mordred was shrugging into and jerked him off balance, leaving Mordred clinging to him as he lowered his face. Their lips brushed and when Mordred gasped, Merlin took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, playing it along the ridge of Mordred's teeth and his lower lip. Mordred groaned into Merlin's mouth as their tongues finally met and he forgot all about Arthur until he felt another hand at his back, steadying him. Another tugged at his chin and Mordred reluctantly let his head be turned away from Merlin.

 

"Ar—" Mordred managed before Arthur's mouth descended, swallowing the words and bruising Mordred's lips with the sheer force of it. Mordred's arms tightened around Merlin and his brain reeled. In the background, there were whistles and catcalls from other club-goers but Mordred hardly processed those.

 

With a satisfied smack of his lips, Arthur drew away. "Will you come home with us, Mordred?"

 

Dazedly, Mordred wiped his mouth and nodded. "Uhhh...yes."

 

The next thing Mordred knew, he was being tugged into a cab where he sprawled between them, his head on Arthur's shoulder and one of his legs draped over Merlin's lap. It was impossible to sit serenely there, waiting for their final destination, especially when Mordred had already had a taste of what was to come. But that was what it appeared Arthur and Merlin planned to do. 

 

So, Mordred dropped his left hand into Arthur's lap and worked his right leg against Merlin's crotch. The three of them exchanged grins and Mordred felt a little bolder for it. 

 

"Oh, so he does know how to play dirty..." Merlin laughed.

 

"He is a future lawyer..." Arthur agreed.

 

"I learned from the best," Mordred said.

 

Arthur's fingers dug into Mordred, pushing him up as the cab slowed to a stop. He crowded up behind him, breathing into his ear, "But there's so much to teach you..."

 

As Mordred climbed out of the cab behind Merlin, he looked up at the townhouse looming in front of him. He took a deep breath and swallowed. The reality of what he was here for hit him hard. Arthur nudged him and he stumbled slightly. "Relax, it's just a bit of fun. We're not asking you to move in or anything."

 

"Appeal to the dick, Arthur..." Merlin repeated, tugging Mordred up the steps. As soon as the door was open, Merlin pushed Mordred against the wall and attacked his mouth again while simultaneously pulling his shirt from his trousers.

 

Arthur closed and locked the door behind them before tugging Merlin away. "Upstairs."

 

It took them ages to reach the platform at the top because every couple of stumbling steps, Mordred was being pushed, pulled or shoved against the wall, the stairs or someone and being licked, kissed, sucked at, groped. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could barely catch a breath. Mordred couldn't remember being this hard in his life. But there were too many hands on him and not enough mouths, and he wondered just when he had gotten so greedy.

 

Mordred found himself in a bedroom. What he assumed was a bedroom. It could have been a torture chamber and he wouldn't know because Arthur was at his back, his tongue swirling _that spot_ behind Mordred's right ear. It was making his knees weak.

 

Merlin's fingers stroked Mordred's throat as he plucked the buttons of his shirt open. Arthur pulled the lapels apart and delved inside, his hands cool against Mordred's skin. Fingers stroked over his collarbones and down his chest to circle his nipples before pinching them. Mordred's knees did buckle then and he gasped, grabbing at Arthur's wrists.

 

"Oh, he liked that!" Merlin announced, looking more than amused as he continued to take down buttons. "Do it again."

 

"No-no, don't do that..." Mordred breathed but Arthur was already pinching, twisting, tugging. Mordred's hips flexed as bolts of pleasure coursed through him. "Ah! Ah!"

 

When Merlin dropped to his knees to work on Mordred's belt, he nipped at the curve of Mordred's left hip and then dragged his tongue along his belly. It was Mordred's undoing. His fingers found purchase in Merlin's hair and his hips thrust into nothingness with only the wispy drag of his trousers for friction. Warmth blossomed across his skin and even before he slumped against Arthur, he was acutely aware of his embarrassment. "Oh God. Oh fuck! I'm sorry...."

 

"I'll take that as a compliment," Arthur chuckled.

 

Merlin untangled the fingers in his hair, finished undoing Mordred's trousers and letting them drop. Then, he carefully peeled back Mordred's boxer-briefs. The evidence was pooled there, wet and glistening. To his horror, Merlin touched it with his fingers. "You're clean, I trust?"

 

"What?" Mordred's brain hadn't quite caught up.

 

"Clean. No diseases?"

 

"Jesus Christ, no." Mordred couldn't even remember the last time he had had the time for anything other than a wank before dropping off to sleep.

 

"Good," Merlin said and scraped the come off the fabric with his tongue.

 

"God, Merlin!" Arthur complained, but Mordred felt the twitch of Arthur's cock against his lower back.

 

"This is better anyway," Merlin said as he divested Mordred of his underpants. "Now we know you'll last the night."

 

"What?" Mordred said weakly.

 

"Oh, you didn't think we were finished, did you?" There was amusement in Arthur's tone as he stripped Mordred's shirt away.

 

Mordred didn't have the opportunity to respond. Merlin had sucked Mordred's still mostly-hard length into his mouth and was working it in a way Mordred would have most definitely appreciated if he hadn't just blown his wad. He sucked in another breath and tried not to sound so pained when he said again, "Don't!"

 

Arthur laughed again. "You know Merlin, attack-attack-attack. He always gets what he wants too. It's why I hired him. That, and his talented mouth." Mordred whined as Arthur left him on shaking legs, and clinging to Merlin to keep from ending up on the floor. Arthur walked in a slow circle around them, stroking himself as he undressed and leaving his clothes where they fell.

 

"Fuck, look at the two of you," Arthur said and Merlin reached for him, drawing off of Mordred with a 'pop' and going just as eagerly down on Arthur. Arthur groaned and shifted closer to Mordred, making it easier for Merlin to bob back and forth between them.

 

Arthur grunted softly and watched as Merlin tended to them, letting his hand wander over Mordred's backside and delve into the crease. Mordred shivered as Arthur's fingers brushed his hole and he gasped, pushing Merlin away from him again. "It's too much..."

 

Stilling Merlin with a touch to his shoulder, Arthur squeezed Mordred's arse cheek and then nudged him away, murmuring, "Get on the bed." 

 

With a sigh of relief, Mordred clambered onto the mattress and propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms and kissed his puffy red lips. They moved together in a familiar, sensual manner and Merlin was accommodating as Arthur undressed him, slowly stripping the belt out of his trousers and undoing the buttons of his shirt. When Merlin was naked, Arthur pushed their bodies flush and let his hands roam over Merlin's angular frame.

 

Mordred bit his lip. They were even hotter together than he had imagined, trading kisses like barbs and tugging each other like they couldn't possibly be close enough. They wandered nearer to the bed and suddenly Arthur pushed Merlin away from him. Merlin fell back on the mattress beside Mordred and offered him a lazy grin.

 

"Eeny meeny miny moe..." Arthur said after plucking a tube of lubricant from the bedside drawer. He looked between Mordred and Merlin and then arched a brow at Merlin.

 

"I wanna watch Arthur fuck you," Merlin said, turning toward Mordred and stroking his chest. "Is that okay?"

 

Mordred swallowed and nodded, his voice sounding thick and foreign to his own ears. "Yeah, okay."

 

Merlin held out his hand and Arthur gave him the lube before easing down beside Mordred. "Relax. We're going to make it good for you. We don't exactly want you to run away, screaming." 

 

Mordred flashed a hesitant smile. It wasn't that he was worried about anything not being good, because by God, he hadn't been disappointed yet. It was only that he hadn't half a fucking clue what he was doing here and he was afraid to disappoint two of the people in the world that he respected most.

 

Arthur ran his hand down Mordred's thigh and as he pulled Mordred's leg up, lowered their mouths together again. A slick finger circled Mordred's entrance, pushing at the rim but with not nearly enough pressure to breach him until Mordred pulled both of his knees up, whining with frustration.

 

"Quit being such a tease, Merlin..." Arthur admonished.

 

"I want him to want it," Merlin said.

 

"Beg for it you mean." Arthur thumbed Mordred's cheek and confided, "Merlin's got a bit of a sadistic side."

 

"I do not!" Merlin argued as his finger stilled.

 

"Are you kidding me?" Arthur began with a shake of his head.

 

"Oh God, please!" Mordred was sure that he had been reduced to a bundle of useless flesh and raw nerves just waiting for stimulation. "I don't care. Touch me, I need it."

 

Merlin smirked and slipped one impossibly long finger into Mordred, who gasped and bucked involuntarily.

 

"Sadist," Arthur said again, his eyes shining with something like fond amusement.

 

Merlin shrugged and pressed another finger into Mordred's arse. "You must like it, you've been with me long enough."

 

"Oh, I like it well enough," Arthur said, letting one of his hands roam over Mordred's torso, pinching and rolling a nipple between his fingers again. A grin blossomed across his face as he glanced down at Mordred. "It takes one to know one, you know."

 

"Oh! Oh God!" Yes, coherency and eloquence had just jumped, hand-in-hand, right out the window but there was nothing to be done for it. Mordred arched and writhed, then flung his hand outward, catching Arthur in the stomach. Mordred slid his palm downward, running his fingers through the coarse thatch of hair at the apex of Arthur's thighs before curling them around Arthur's thick, heavy cock. He concentrated on the feel of it in his hand, the way the skin dragged with his fingers along the shaft, the way Arthur's breath caught in his throat. Mordred had to because otherwise, he was going to succumb to the fingers jabbing at his prostate and sending sparks of pleasure zipping up his spine.

 

Arthur grunted softly and Mordred doubled his efforts, adding a twist to the motion every time he rolled his hand over the head of Arthur's cock. Arthur's hips began to shift and he worked himself in Mordred's grasp until Merlin swore and fell away from them both. 

 

Merlin flopped over onto his back and spread his own legs. "Go on then, _fuck_ him." His eyelids were heavy and he was already touching himself. Not stroking, mind, but touching...just feathery brushes of his fingertips over the skin of his thighs, his belly, his nipples, the dusky head of his cock.

 

Mordred let Arthur manhandle him onto his hands and knees, his eyes locking with Merlin's as Arthur lined himself up, rocking his hips and working into Mordred in shallow increments until he was fully seated. Mordred's chest burned. He hadn't taken a breath since Arthur had breached him, but then again, neither had Merlin.

 

Then Arthur pulled back, gripping Mordred's hips for leverage. A single solid thrust had him balls deep again and Mordred gasped. His elbows buckled, sending his arse higher. Arthur shifted his hips and pushed slowly into Mordred again and again. Mordred tried to think of a time he had had such a lazy, thorough fuck and couldn't. Every encounter he had ever had before had been hasty and fumbling at best. Mordred had no doubt now that this affair would go on all night.

 

Another moan dragged itself from the depths of Mordred's belly and he shuddered when Arthur took hold of his hair, pulling his head up. "Look what he's doing for you..." Arthur slipped his other hand around Mordred's chest and pulled him upright, scraping his teeth across Mordred's neck.

 

Mordred forced his eyes to open and focus. Merlin was clutching one knee to his chest and had two lubed fingers buried in his own hole. He paused and flashed Mordred a smile then let his fingers slip out of himself. He wiped them on the duvet. Behind Mordred, Arthur growled lowly and pushed into him a little harder.

 

"Arthur loves this set." Merlin indicated the duvet cover as he repositioned himself in front of Mordred. He greased Mordred's cock with spit and lifted his legs on either side of Mordred's hips. Mordred slipped his hands behind Merlin's knees to support him. "I think it's bloody ugly. And I don't care if we ruin it with lube and come because I like a slippery, messy, uninhibited fuck."

 

Mordred sucked in a breath, watching helplessly as Merlin spit and stroked him again.

 

"Are you in yet?" Arthur grunted into Mordred's ear, rocking him forward and sending Mordred's cock sliding along Merlin's thigh.

 

"No he isn't, you impatient arse!" Merlin scowled and dug his heel into Arthur's ribs. Arthur chuckled in Mordred's ear and hauled him back again. Merlin squirmed and reached for Mordred's cock again, moving it flush against his hole. He smiled at Mordred and twitched his leg to get Mordred's attention. "C'mon love, help a bloke out."

 

Biting his lip, Mordred shifted his hips forward. The head of his cock eased inside of Merlin, who sighed. Mordred squeezed his eyes shut and groaned because fucking into Merlin left himself empty. He swore, "Fuck..."

 

"That is the idea," Arthur breathed, pulling Mordred's hips back and then pushing them forward again. "Move, or I'll do it for you."

 

"Oh God!" Mordred clung more tightly to Merlin's thighs and gave his hips an experimental roll that had the three of them gasping. _This_ was pleasure. And it was the most delightful sort of torture. He increased his tempo until the madness of it left him disoriented and he faltered, unsure if he was coming or going.

 

Arthur's fingers dug into Mordred's hips and he directed Mordred's movements once more. Back and forth, back and forth...Mordred's eyes were rolling in his head and how was it possible that he was so close to completion again when neither Merlin nor Arthur had even come yet?

 

Suddenly, Arthur bent over Mordred, the force of his thrust sending Mordred's cock slamming into Merlin. Merlin grunted and tightened his arms around Mordred, pulling him down and holding him in place.

 

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Arthur groaned as he slammed into Mordred, his enthusiasm for the task sending the headboard knocking into the wall. "Fucking killing me with your...Hot. Little. Body!"

 

Mordred couldn't help the wanton sound that escaped him and he was glad for Merlin holding him up because he might have melted into the mattress otherwise. He was moaning in time with Arthur's thrusts and he was desperately trying to stave off an orgasm but he couldn't keep a single thought in his head, let alone a distasteful visual to keep his cock at bay. Then Merlin clenched around him and Mordred cried out, going stiff as he made one last valiant attempt at holding back and failed.

 

Arthur swore, pistoned into him a few times and stilled. Mordred felt Arthur's cock pulse, bathing his insides with hot come. Together, they sighed. Mordred didn't move. Pinned between Arthur and Merlin, he couldn't if he had wanted to, but more than that, he didn't even have the will to.

 

After a minute, Merlin spoke up. "Oi, not to ruin the moment or anything but you're crushing me..."

 

Arthur's chest rumbled with laughter against Mordred's back before he moved. Mordred whimpered pitifully as Arthur pulled out and slipped away. Merlin petted Mordred's damp curls for a moment and the nudged him. "You too..." Mordred pushed himself up on shaking arms long enough for Merlin to slither out from under him and then collapsed forward, his knees tucked under and his arse in the air.

 

The mattress dipped behind Mordred as Merlin and Arthur settled there and Mordred could hear the sounds of them kissing and it was like the perfect ending because the last thing he wanted was to get between the two of them. Then Arthur broke away, saying, "You didn't finish?"

 

"Not yet," Merlin sighed. Mordred startled as he felt Merlin's fingertips slide over his balls and up his taint. They circled the rim of his arsehole and then pushed in, drawing a surprised squeak from him. "We've got to make sure lover-boy doesn't muss your duvet."

 

"Sod the duvet," Arthur moaned in exasperation.

 

Mordred could practically hear Merlin's triumphant smirk. "I'll remind you that you said that." 

 

"Do." Arthur huffed. "But in the meanwhile, come here and let me take care of your little problem."

 

"Oh," Merlin laughed, his fingers twisting inside of Mordred and making a cringe-worthy squelching sound. "It's neither of those things, love."

 

Mordred gasped and pushed back against Merlin's hand, the sensation akin to stretching sore muscles. It hurt but deliciously so, and Merlin indulged him, not that Mordred thought he deserved it. Another finger slid in, and even though Mordred was sure it was one of Arthur's wider, more blunt ones, he cried, "Merlin!"

 

"Yes, Mr. Camlann?" Merlin said in his most professional voice and withdrew his fingers nearly completely only to begin rubbing the stretched muscles of Mordred's rim.

 

A little shiver ran through Mordred and he moaned breathlessly. "I want you to fuck me."

 

"I knew he'd be fucking perfect," Merlin quipped to Arthur and then bent, pressing a kiss to the small of Mordred's back. "I'm going to fuck you, baby, and you don't have to do anything but hold on."

 

Mordred's fingers twitched against the duvet and he swayed back with Merlin's fleeting touch. The tube of lubricant sputtered as Merlin squeezed it into his palm and he laughed in astonishment. "When was the last time we went through half a bottle of lube in one night?"

 

"Probably that time you let me fist you," Arthur mused.

 

"Oh shit, I'd forgotten about that," Merlin laughed above the wet sound of slicking himself. Mordred whimpered at the mental image that came with his newfound knowledge and his cock gave a feeble and spent twitch. At Mordred's hips, Merlin's fingertips delicately danced and his cock nudged Mordred's hole, slipping easily in and out.

 

"God, you can be such a tease..." Arthur said.

 

"This has been a long time coming, Arthur. I have been waiting for you to put your compunctions aside for months. So you'll forgive me if I want to play a little," Merlin groused.

 

"By all means, play as much as you like, but in the meanwhile, poor Mordred is laying there, all fucked out while you take your sweet time..." Arthur's hand was warm as it slid along Mordred's back, curled around his ribcage, and located a nipple to worry. Mordred swallowed down a whine as he jerked in place.

 

"Oh yes, I'm the evil one while you're the one torturing the kid's nipples." Merlin laughed and teased Mordred's entrance with the head of his cock a little more.

 

"Find a weakness and exploit it," Arthur murmured and sharply tugged, making Mordred moan and arch.

 

Merlin hummed and tipped his hips forward, gliding into Mordred balls deep. "Oh yeah," Merlin groaned, pausing for a moment before pulling out and start over.

 

Arthur leaned over Mordred, saying, "This is the moment where, in typical Merlin fashion, he decides that he has waited far too long for this and can no longer hold back despite his noble sensibilities."

 

"Oh fuck," Mordred responded, twisting his fingers into the coverlet a little tighter.

 

"Oh, shut up! I can too." Merlin complained even as his hips were starting to snap. His thrusts quickened a little, slowed down, and then began to build the pace again. "Damn, I can't! It's too fucking good..."

 

"Told you," The smirk in Arthur's voice was evident and a breathy laugh escaped Mordred because of it. He wasn't at all surprised that their competitiveness and banter carried over to the bedroom and there was a certain erotic quality to it of its own.

 

A particularly enthusiastic thrust jabbed at his prostate and had Mordred seeing flashes of white at the edge of his vision. He cried out softly but Merlin only fucked into him harder, grinding their hips together at the end of each thrust. It was not long before Merlin's panting turned to groans. Arthur had continued his running commentary on what Merlin was doing, was going to do, or would like to do, but Mordred had lost all sense of focus.

 

Merlin's hips began to snap erratically and he swore as he dug his fingers more tightly into Mordred's hips. "Shite-fuck-damn! _Venio, venio, venio_!"

 

The latin verbiage pulled Mordred from his haze and he glanced at Arthur. "Did he just-- _I'm coming_?"

 

Arthur's eyes were on Merlin but he nodded slightly to Mordred. "Thought he was clever when we first got together. Used to say it for laughs. Now it's ingrained, I think. Hear that, Merlin? Your battle cry impresses the kid."

 

"See Arthur? My wit is lost on you," Merlin said wryly.

 

"Some things are just old hat," Arthur replied fondly and nudged Merlin with his foot before looking over at Mordred. "You okay?"

 

"Mmmmm," Mordred sighed and uncurled one hand from the duvet to rub his face. "I'm bloody well knackered."

 

Arthur laughed. "Well-fucked is more like it."

 

"Arthur," Merlin interrupted. "Would you shut your gob for a minute and get a towel?"

 

"God, you can be such a queen." Arthur sighed and rolled off the bed, padding into the en suite and returning with a hand towel and a wet flannel.

 

When Merlin pulled out, come spilled in his wake and began to trickle downward. Mordred clenched to contain it but Merlin was already swiping at him with the towel. Reaching behind himself, Mordred finished the task and then flopped forward, mumbling into the mattress, "Guh."

 

"Did you want the shower?" Arthur asked as he trailed his fingers down Mordred's spine.

 

"Um..." Mordred thought on it a moment but declined. "Don't think my legs'll hold at the moment."

 

Merlin squeezed Mordred's thigh as he clambered off the bed. "I'm going to take one."

 

"Me too, if that's okay," Arthur said.

 

"Uh huh," Mordred said. He knew what they were doing. This was his easy out. But he still needed another minute to collect himself. "Take your time..."

 

"You can always join us if you change your mind..." Merlin offered.

 

"Yeah, okay." Mordred nodded and rubbed his eyes again, barely suppressing a yawn. He rolled over onto his back as a show of good faith. Merlin and Arthur kissed him in turn and it felt like 'goodbye' even though no one said a word.

 

Mordred was already drifting by the time he heard the spray of the shower and he mentally kicked himself but already found it too difficult to move. _Five more minutes_ he told himself, mentally mapping where his clothes were on the floor and preparing himself for the supreme effort of getting dressed and hailing a cab. He heard a moan over the sound of the shower and, pretty sure it had been Arthur, Mordred let himself doze a little longer.

 

The room was lit with the early morning sunlight that was filtering through the blinds. Mordred fingered the soft blanket that had been thrown over him and looked askance. At the other edge of the bed, Merlin was curled against Arthur beneath another throw. To his embarrassment, Mordred realized that he'd fallen asleep on top of the duvet and instead of waking him, Merlin and Arthur had been kind enough to let him sleep.

 

Flustered, he climbed out of the bed and collected his things (some of which still littered the stairwell), carrying them into the downstairs hallway to dress. He was buttoning up his shirt when he heard a soft voice behind him, 

 

"Hey," It was Arthur, bare chested but in low-slung pyjama bottoms. "You taking off?"

 

Mordred flushed. "Yeah. Sorry, I meant to go before."

 

Arthur waved the comment aside. "It's fine, really. No walks of shame here. Look, I wanted you to know...you can come back any time."

 

Mordred shrugged into his suit coat and toed the floor uncomfortably. Why was Arthur making this so damn awkward? He forced himself to smile. "Yeah, okay."

 

"I really mean it though," Arthur said in earnest, reaching up to brush his thumb over Mordred's cheekbone. "If we had thought this was going to make things weird between the three of us, we...we wouldn't have done it. We like you, Mordred. We'd like it if you came back. Just...think about it?"

 

Mordred stared at Arthur for a moment, trying to determine if he was taking the mick. But Arthur's face didn't crack or fold and Mordred found himself flushing for another reason altogether. He smiled as he glanced at the floor. "Okay."

 

"God, you're a sweet fucking kid," Arthur said, carding his hand through Mordred's hair. "Whatever you decide...thanks for tonight."

 

"I should probably be thanking you," Mordred replied.

 

"Probably," Arthur smirked.

 

"Uh...thanks then," Mordred said and took a step toward the door.

 

Arthur moved after him, leaning across Mordred to undo the latch and pull the door open. "My _pleasure_. Do come again." His lips brushed Mordred's ear and made him shiver. Before Mordred stepped through the door, he glanced up the stairwell one final time. Crouched on the top step was Merlin, who grinned and lifted his hand in salutation.

 

Mordred returned the valediction and stepped into the crisp, morning air. He was tired, sore and had more questions than answers but the day was ripe with unsung promises. When he got home, he took a shower, pulled on some comfortable sweats, and turned on the radio while waiting for the kettle to boil. An older song was playing and he hummed along with the tune as he dug through the drawer for a clean spoon. He straightened with a laugh and shook his head. " _Dancing Queen_....I'm an idiot."

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Res ipsa loquitur is a legal Latin phrase which translates to “the thing speaks for itself.” The doctrine indicates that there is no need to provide any further detail — the facts of the case are sufficient to find liability. Generally, because the facts are so obvious, a party does not need to provide further explanation.


End file.
